Hill Cross_PETER AND BOB’S NIGHT IN A GRAVEYARD_Take Me Home_The Welcoming Window
Catalog Guide:
Hill Cross
Hill Cross cemetery is possibly the world’s most incorrectly named cemetery that has ever existed, on account of the fact that there’s no hill anywhere in sight! In fact, it’s set so low that you could almost call it a valley, and as such it’s prone to flooding and there’s been more than one occasion when a gravestone has been uprooted and floated down the lane! The valley of the dead! Not a nice place to be in the daytime, let alone at night!Thankfully, no bodies have been unearthed (yet) but it’s only a matter of time! The ground is so eroded in places, you can almost see corners of a coffin...
PETER AND BOB’S NIGHT IN A GRAVEYARD
PETER AND BOB’S NIGHT IN A GRAVEYARD Peter Mortenson and Bob Brown spent a night in a graveyard with my friend. We actually went on a series of nights, most recently Halloween, and that time Peter went alone. Why go to a glitzy, some different type of costume party when you can celebrate it the fashioned way with a good look of ghost hunt? A proper stake-out with sandwiches and cokes. We went armed with a torch, digital camera, voice recorder, and of course our own senses and judgment - probably the most important tool of all, but also the one most prone to error. Amateurish t...
Take Me Home
Rain splattered and pooled in the mud over Charlie’s grave and in the middle, Charlie’s ghost sat. He was a young man when he died, only twenty-seven, and even though he had never believed in ghostswww.onedoor.cc, there he was. He knew the air around him was cold. That much was obvious even if he couldn’t feel it. If it wasn’t for the steady and large droplets of water that fell from rolling gray clouds overhead or the brisk wind that rattled what remained of the leaves in the trees, the group of teenagers wearing Halloween costumes that snuck into the cemetery told him as much.He didn’t pay them any mind....
The Welcoming Window
“It doesn’t count if you’re already planning your defeat.” Well, that’s the kind of thing I’m used to hearing from my cousin Loretta. Cousins by birth, friends by choice, as she is wont to say. I don’t contradict her. It would be cruel. Like kicking a particularly ebullient puppy. But the fact remains that though puppies are, of course, adorable, it is their purpose in life, and kicking one would be an unspeakable act, beyond even me on my grumpiest days, there are still times when you wish they’d just simmer down a bit. The cousins by birth is true, of course. It’s the friends by choice that ...